


Folio

by shrikethrush



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25616287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrikethrush/pseuds/shrikethrush
Summary: Sagitta is a guild in First Folio, the world's first fantasy VR MMORPG.  They're relatively new, decently powerful, and all fairly close.After the near death of one of their guildmates, they learn the truth – they've all gone to the same school all along, and were too wrapped up in their own worlds to ever even notice.  Funny what a small world it is, isn't it?But maybe it's the reminder they've all needed – that they aren't alone, they aren't forgotten, and maybe a little bit of teamwork will help them win the day.Oh, and some excellent graphics.  To better see who and what they're destroying this time, of course.
Relationships: Alana Beck & Connor Murphy, Alana Beck & Evan Hansen, Alana Beck & Jared Kleinman, Alana Beck & Zoe Murphy, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy, Jared Kleinman & Connor Murphy, Jared Kleinman & Zoe Murphy
Comments: 15
Kudos: 12





	1. The (Last) Stand

“Alcor, get it  _ together _ ,” she spat, her eyes narrowed as a brilliant light shone ahead – that being the rising sun. “We can’t afford your goofing off right now!” 

“I’m doing my best!” Alcor shot back, his tone sharp as another pulse filtered through the clearing – his magic, certainly. It was his job to run support, after all, and he refused to be a healer, so instead he gave stat buffs while Altair did actual healing. The two of them were an excellent team, even if they were opposites at their core. 

“We – we just gotta wait for the timing, right?” Altair tapped his weapon nervously against the dirt, the grass around them responding to their necromancer’s panic by wilting and withering. “It – the Aurora Dragon – it’ll be here soon, right?” 

“That’s what the raid schedule said – it destroys this forest before it gets to the location where most people will be tackling it, the Coliseum. Of course, we’re gonna kill it before it gets there and steal all the loot and experience. I don’t know why anyone else hasn’t tried.” She – Sham – answered. 

She was the leader of the party, the tactician and sniper, Sham the Constellation Witch. She was head of Sagitta, an up and coming guild in Folio Online _ ,  _ the first (and most popular) totally immersive VR fantasy MMORPG. 

“Because the bastard has nuts buffs before it crashes through the Coliseum wall,” their artificer, Vega, scoffed. “We’re the only guild still hangin’ around Rosemeade that could even think to handle it before then.” He glanced back down at his project – it looked like some kind of bullshit magic gun, but it was probably gonna turn out to be a game-breaking superweapon, just like Sham’s bow. Maybe this time he’d give it to Mizar. She could really use something cool like that in her arsenal. 

Speaking of Mizar, she hung upside down from a tree, her arms crossed as she narrowed her eyes at Vega. “That’s pretty suspicious. We’re not powerful compared to – say – The Chicken of Nuggets, or Frodoshroom, or First Folio?” 

“They’re off taking on Oberon in the UnSeelie Court. Which is  _ bullshit,  _ they really ought to be here running quests for Queenie like us,” Alcor huffed, another vein of purple magic cutting into the earth as he continued to boost the rest of the party. 

A tree withered and died as Altair shifted from foot to foot, another of the flowers in his hair springing back to life as it did so. “Right, but – but aren’t they right about how that’s the whole goal of First Folio? To defend the Faerie Queen? And Oberon is sorta the biggest threat right now to – to the whole empire or whatever.” 

“And we’re defending her too – by running fetch quests and killing big dragons that threaten symbols of her power, like the Coliseum!” Vega scoffed at Altair. “Don’t be a dummy, Tarrie.” 

Mizar scowled at Vega. “Don’t be so much of a dick to Altair, or we’re gonna start calling  _ you _ Gaga, m’lady.” 

“God, I may just do that anyway,” Alcor snorted. 

The ground shook, and suddenly Sham was pulling back the invisible string on her bow, an arrow of light forming as a constellation shone brightly in the morning light – the same constellation that was the namesake of the guild formed by the five of them, best friends who had never met in real life but had always wanted to. 

A mark shone on each of them – Vega’s shoulder, over Altair’s heart, below Alcor’s ear and the palm of Mizar’s hand. Sham had hers on her forehead – a symbol of pride, the symbol of their guild –  _ her _ guild, the five-star constellation that connected them all. 

Mizar twirled her guns, magic as red-hot as the rage that had been burning dormant in her veins filling them with energy. Vega suddenly had explosives of his own making in his hands, terrifying but incredible and game breaking all at once. Alcor shone a brilliant purple as he lifted his staff over his head, a rush of energy floating through the group. Altair leaned against his scythe nervously, the ground withering in his wake as more flowers sprouted in his hair – he was easily the softest grim reaper the game had ever seen. 

Sham pulled the string of her bow back even farther – yeah. Yeah, this was her guild, and they were gonna kick  _ ass.  _

***

Alana sighed as she logged off, her chest all warm and fuzzy as she felt her mattress under her again, returning to her life and the stresses of school and everything that came with living up to the  _ Beck  _ name. 

Tomorrow was the first day of senior year – the first day of the last year of the worst period of her life. She’d manage, right? 

Who was she kidding, of  _ course  _ she would. She was Sham, she was part of Sagitta, she had people who liked her and cared about her. Of course she’d manage. 

Of  _ course.  _

***

Evan logged off the game, coming back to himself slowly – it was weird, going from not having a broken bone in a game that felt as real as anything he was seeing or doing in the real world to having one and having it suck  _ majorly.  _

His phone rang, and he was quick to answer. It was Jared, obviously – who else would be calling Evan? 

“Nice job on the raid tonight, Tarrie,” he could hear Jared’s shit eating grin through the phone. 

“Right back at you,  _ Gaga,”  _ Ev rolled his eyes. Jared sighed through the phone. 

“I’m picking you up before school tomorrow, it’s gonna pay my car insurance off for the next, like, six months? I’ll swing by at seven-thirty because I wanna roll through Starbucks. You good with that?” 

“...yeah, whatever,” Evan wrinkled his nose. “I guess – I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” 

“Yep. See you then, Tarrie.” 

***

Zoe knocked on Connor’s door lightly. 

“You there? Connor?” 

“Fuck off!” He yelled from inside. 

“I just wanted to say to you – you did well in the fight tonight. As Alcor? And it’s – it’s really nice you let Altair hide behind you the way you do.” 

“Whatever, go away!” Connor hissed. 

“Okay, fine! Asshole,” Zoe wrinkled her nose in frustration. “No need to be such a dick!” 

Connor rolled over, his head foggy and his mind tired. He wished life had a pause button the same way the game did. 

That...would be really fucking nice. 


	2. Home

School was  _ awful.  _ Evan’s letter had been stolen by  _ Connor Murphy  _ who had pushed him that morning after Jared had pulled a Jared and been a total dick to him. 

At least Folio was gonna be nice tonight – he was gonna go out seeking materials with Mizar while Jared’s character stuck around with Sham to try to build some nuts superweapon that he’d been working on for her. Alcor was busy with  _ something _ that night, so he decided to not join them in their questing or whatever. 

Regardless, he was gonna be out with Mizar, who was probably one of his best friends in the whole world, and it was gonna be awesome. 

He ran through his homework as quickly as possible, his excitement tangible as he logged into the game for that evening’s guild meeting. 

His character was of the ‘grim reaper’ class, which was about governing the line between life and death. That was part of what made Folio so cool – the magic system had actual rules and logic, and once you figured that out it was easy to get the hang of playing the game in fun, rule-breaking ways. 

Evan was the only grim reaper healer in the game. He was the first to figure out that within Folio there was a finite amount of ‘life energy’ that existed in everything – energy that could be drained, transferred, and manipulated in a billion different ways. Every living thing had a set amount of ‘life energy’ that it possessed, and once Ev had really gotten a handle on how to pull on that and transfer it to safer forms of life energy – ‘cuz not all of it was the same – he’d become one of the most useful (and dangerous) healers in the game. Nobody else had figured out how to transform and manipulate the energy in the way he did, and trying usually blew up (literally) in their faces. 

It made him feel...good. To know there was something only he could do. Even if it was only a dumb type of magic in a big online game, it was a nice feeling to think that maybe he was just a little special, or good at something. 

His scythe fit comfortably in his hands, and call him the Grinch but as he approached the other members of the guild his heart grew three sizes. 

“Hey! Come take a seat next to me,” Mizar greeted from their usual table in the back corner of the tavern that Sham ran – The Arrow. It wasn’t original, but it  _ was  _ home, headquarters, whatever you wanted to call it. 

Even if it wasn’t real. 

He slipped into a seat next to Mizar, who was polishing one of her guns – it was only a little bit intimidating these days, not terrifying in the way it had been back when they’d first started playing together at the beginning of summer. 

“Sorry my useless brother couldn’t go out questing with you tonight,” Mizar apologized. “But you get me instead! We’re gonna kick names and take ass!” 

“Be nice to Tarrie tonight, he had a rough day at school. Local asshole pushed him in the hall for no reason, it was very traumatic,” Vega snorted at his expense, causing Mizar to launch a blueberry at him. 

“Stop being such an asshole to him all the time! God, Altair, why do you even put up with this guy?”

Vega and him locked eyes before speaking in perfect unison. “Family friends.” 

Which was a  _ lie,  _ Evan had no other friends he could go to, and even if he did it was weird because he still liked Jared, he and Jared still did stuff just ‘cuz they wanted to, even if it was rare compared to how it used to be or if Jared had gotten a lot meaner. Jared had still sought Evan out in Folio, and that counted for...an awful lot, actually. 

“Y’all are weird. Weirder than these two kids at my school who use like, the  _ exact  _ same excuse to hover around each other but still be treated like garbage. One of them is quiet and shy and nice enough – if a little weird – and the other is a loud, brash pain-in-the-ass who called my brother a school shooter this morning.”

“I need a name and an address,” Vega leaned forward on his elbows, putting aside his alchemy for a moment. “Y’know, so I know exactly who and where I need to kick the ass of.” 

“You – you have no right after the shit you pulled today with -”

“It’s different! Alcor is a mess,  _ sure,  _ but we all know he’d hurt himself, not anyone else. For someone to suggest something to the contrary probably hurt. Contrast that to  _ our  _ asshole, who pushed you and stole from you. Totally different situation.” 

“If someone pushed and stole from you, you should  _ really  _ go to the school authorities,” Sham sat next to Vega, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve better than that, I mean  _ really –” _

“No! No, I mean – the pushing was a misunderstanding, he probably thought I was laughing  _ at  _ him, and then he stole – well I have this thing I’m supposed to do where I write letters to myself like ‘Dear Altair this is gonna be a good day and here’s why’ except in my letter I sorta kinda talked about his sister, and he misinterpreted it as me trying to like, mess with him? Or something? Because he thinks I have a crush on her or whatever but really I just think she’s super cool and wanna be her friend really really bad because all I want is a friend and he doesn’t  _ know  _ that which is  _ so embarrassing -” _

“Well don’t worry about that here, ‘cuz you’ve got all of us and we’re gonna blow off some steam by killing some evil demon dragons to make you feel better.” 

“Yeah!” 

***

Connor wanted to go home. 

It was...weird. Only now did he realize that The Arrow, with Sham and Vega and Altair and even his sister – it was home. With Altair’s dumb tree puns, and Sham’s overbearing worry and nuts tactics, and Vega’s stupid mean spirited humor that wasn’t actually all bad looking back, and his sister actually talking to him for something other than an argument – it was home. 

He really fucking wanted to go home. 

***

Altair slammed his scythe into the ground, a green glow illuminating his face and hair and his eerily-feral grin. The grass around him withered and died, the flowers in his hair springing to life and growing thorny vines that swept away an entire wave of the opposition. 

Sometimes it shocked Zoe, really, what a competent fighter he was. She forgot sometimes, with his timid smiles and nervous fidgeting – he was a healer by  _ choice _ , not obligation. 

But then there were moments like this, where his nerves were swept away and so was the opposition in a viney mass of retribution that left Zoe  _ very  _ glad he was on her side. 

“Oi, Altair, behind you!” 

He didn’t even turn around as the vines swept in the direction Zoe had nodded. 

_ Holy shit.  _

Yeah, it was really good they were on the same side. 

“Thanks, Mizar! Can you get the ones on the left, please? They’re fire elementals – not my thing.  _ Really  _ not my thing.”

The last time Altair had died in-game, it had been to a fire elemental. That was forever ago, but taking damage enough to die in a totally immersive VR game is – not fun. It’s not as bad as actually dying, not by any stretch, but it’s still unpleasant. 

“I got you! You sweep the icy bastards, I’ve got this,” she felt the pleasant warmth of magic well up in her chest, swirling around as she channeled it through her weapons, a sort of extension of herself that she could manipulate with barely a thought. 

Yeah. She’s  _ got  _ this. 

***

“Sham, so help me if you try combining those it’s going to  _ explode–” _

“You don’t know that! Have you tried it?”

“No, I  _ haven’t  _ tried it, but I do know that –”

It did, in fact, explode. 

“I think I’ve earned an ‘I told you so’.”

“You did and I hate you for it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that vibe when you see a conversation going on in a group you recently joined and you *really really* wanna join in but the anxiety is Too Strong™ especially since you’ve been in the group for like two weeks and have said all of two sentences to these people but you really wanna join in and make friends but they probably already think you’re some weird reclusive mess of a person who’s too wrapped up in their own life to join in so instead you just sit and watch and think *really really hard* about what you’d wanna say and hope someone else says it for you
> 
> anxiety is,,,fun


	3. Weird

The information came to Jared so quickly he could barely process it. 

Alcor’s real name was Connor. Mizar – Zoe, actually – had told them as much after finding out Evan was Altair. 

But this was getting ahead of itself – first, we must go back to the night after the second hellish day of school. 

“My brother –” her face twisted, and the graphics of this game were  _ too good  _ because Jared could see her eyes beginning to water, and that was  _ not a good sign.  _ He guided her over to one of the stuffed chairs by the fire, and Altair dove behind the counter to grab her a glass of water. Sham looked worried but unsure of what to do, so she just sat across from Mizar and tried to seem as supportive as possible. “He – tried to – he’s in the hospital, and –”

“He’s alright, right?” Altair swooped in with his glass of water, his presence oddly assuring. “He’s in the hospital, that means he’s probably gonna be okay. He’s still here, he can get the help he needs, it’s – it’s gonna be okay.” 

“He didn’t even – he thinks we don’t like him – he left a note for Evan  _ fucking  _ Hansen but not for us –”

Altair froze, and this time it was Vega’s turn to save the day. 

“Did you just say Evan Hansen?” 

“Yeah, he’s the nervous kid at my school that’s ‘family friends’ with Jared Kleinman, and why would he even leave  _ him _ a note –”

“I – I’m Evan Hansen,” Altair’s – Evan’s – voice was quiet. “Vega is Jared.”

“Fucking  _ perfect,”  _ Mizar buried her head in her hands. “I’m Zoe. Zoe Murphy. And my brother is Connor –”

“The letter, does it – does it end ‘sincerely, me’?” Evan’s voice was quiet. “Because – because my letter –” 

“So it wasn’t his note,” Zoe curled farther into the chair. “It was  _ Evan’s _ . Even  _ fucking _ better.” 

“I’m Alana,” Sham took a moment to speak up. “Alana Beck.” 

“So we all go to the same school?” Zoe asked. “Great. Now  _ everyone’s  _ gonna fucking know –”

“No, they won’t.” Jared promised. “I’m not always the nicest, or the most polite, but I know I’m not spreading anything about – about this. And Alana won’t, and neither will Ev. It never leaves Sagitta, promise.” 

“I – I just – fuck,” Zoe broke down. “Fucking hell.” 

***

Neither Zoe or Connor were in school the day after that, which frankly didn’t surprise Evan or Jared. What  _ did  _ surprise them was Alana sitting at their table at lunch, her attitude much less overbearing than usual. 

“It's...incredibly sad that we only got to learn each other’s identities under these circumstances,” Alana murmured. “Perhaps we could help Connor by becoming the support system he needs –”

“But we’re not the support system he wants,” Jared leaned back in his seat. “I’m all for helping him out, he’s my friend too, but if we force friendship on him it’s gonna bite us in the ass later on. He needs to want this too, or else he’ll push us away – literally or figuratively.  _ Plus _ he needs to apologize to Ev.” 

“I – no, Jared, that wasn’t his fault. That was on me – on us –”

“He pushed you. That’s not very cash money and therefore he must apologize. However, if you deem it necessary, I – I could apologize too. I  _ should _ apologize too. But if he tells us to go away, we go away, y’know? We force it, it blows up in our faces. We let it happen naturally, it may work out. And we do it on his terms.” 

Evan chewed at his straw, ignoring the writhing  _ thing  _ that kicked up in the pit of his stomach, the itching of his cast suddenly burning. “Yeah, I agree. I – I gotta go.” 

_ Weird.  _

***

They signed onto Folio that night for their usual guild meeting – Connor was there, and he’d clearly been informed by Zoe as to the real identities of everyone present. 

“I’d say I’m surprised, but honestly it made sense once I thought about it for more than, like, thirty seconds,” he rolled his eyes. “This changes nothing.” 

The unspoken ‘and neither does me being in the hospital’ rang through The Arrow with a deafening silence. 

“I – I wanted to apologize again. For –”

“Don’t worry about it, Altair. It’s fine,” Alcor waved his hand as if he hadn’t thought about it since, as if he hadn’t learned that Altair was Evan, as if he weren’t put in the hospital two nights ago for –

“Well, I want to apologize too,” Vega – Jared – was quiet. “I – what I said the other day was uncalled for. I’m sorry.” 

“Again,  _ don’t worry about it.  _ It’s whatever. What’s our plan for tonight’s raid?” 

“Same as always,” Sham smiled. “You and Altair in the back running support, Vega throwing explosives at full speed into the void, me using my super-duper constellation magic, and Mizar just opens fire.” 

Mizar snorts in response to the pun, Altair just breaking into a full laugh. 

“Tonight’s monster is…?” Alcor asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“Some kind of raging tree bastard,” Vega answered. “Terrie is gonna kick it’s ass, or get his ass kicked – we’ll have to see who has the cooler plant magic.” 

“My magic isn’t – it’s not plant magic! It’s death magic. Death magic is  _ way _ cooler than plant magic,” Altair rolled his eyes. 

“Says the tree nerd,” Vega snorted. 

“Death magic is the  _ coolest  _ magic,” Alcor agreed. 

“Alchemy begs to differ. I mean I literally can make magic explosives, being an artificer is the  _ best,”  _ Vega added. 

“But calling on the power of constellations to have different impacts on the real world is way cooler?” Sham suggested. “I mean, you haven’t even  _ seen  _ what I can do with some of ‘em –”

“So show us!” Mizar wrinkled her nose. 

“Next time we fight a decent opponent, I’ll show y’all what  _ real  _ magic looks like,” Sham smiled deviously. 

“You wouldn’t know real magic if it kicked you in the ass,” Vega took a long sip of his drink. 

“We’ll just have to test that, won’t we?” 

“You’ve got a training area out back, yeah?” Alcor asked. “You’ve never had reason to use it before, we should  _ totally _ use it to see who’s the strongest out of us!” 

“Yeah!” Mizar grinned. “Really push our limits in a safe-ish area!” 

It was strange. The elephant in the room was never acknowledged, and while it was  _ nice  _ for everyone to stick together, and to enjoy each other’s company...

...it was weird. Leaving it unaddressed. 

It was really weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the only feedback that my friend gave me on act one of this musical i’m writing was ‘pantries are now aroace culture’ so like??? honestly that says a lot about my writing style


	4. Choose

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ Yeah, I’m supposed to do these now too. I think I get that Evan kid’s whole thing, now, these  _ suck.  _ But I did it to myself I guess, when I landed myself here – I can’t help but wonder what happened to Evan that landed him writing one of these.  _

_ Maybe falling out of that tree wasn’t an accident, eh? Not that it’s even my business – it was sorta assholish of me to steal it from him, but in my defense he never explained himself!  _

_ Probably because I scared him. Definitely because I scared him. He’s probably like Altair, way too skittish to approach the way I approach everything.  _

_ But that’s just the way I am. Sometimes I feel like a – like a fire, or something. Like everything I touch just burns away into ash and there’s nothing left, none of the good parts anyway, but I just keep spreading and growing and making things worse as I go because what’s good for me hurts everyone around me. And maybe I could be okay in small quantities, but it’s so easy to let me get out of control that it’s not really advised for anyone who’s not an experienced professional.  _

_ “Don’t play with fire!” They always told us that as kids. They probably also said “Don’t play with Connor!” Because even back in second fucking grade I was throwing printers over being fucking  _ line leader.  _ That doesn’t matter anymore, and it didn’t even matter then, but just like a fire I was suddenly out of control and everything around me was turning to ash as I burn all the air right out of a room.  _

_ They say that a fire should be smothered to put it out. That’s true for me too, I guess. I never get any fucking space. Which is dumb, this whole thing is  _ dumb,  _ but sometimes I’m just tired and everything hurts and I don’t have the energy to even read the books I like, let alone deal with my family. But it’s still “Come down for dinner, Connor!” or “We’re watching a movie, Connor!” or “You’ve been in your room too much, Connor, come hang out with us!”  _

_ Mom says spending all my time in my room is depressing, that it’ll just make me feel worse and sour my mood and that sitting on my ass all day is going to  _ kick  _ my ass in the long term.  _

_ But I wake up and I don’t want to get out of bed, and I don’t want to go to school, and I don’t want to do anything but lie there because I don’t have the energy anymore. If I’m a fire the way I said I was, I guess I’m all burnt out.  _

_ But then my sister or my mom or my dad, they’re that little bit of gasoline or oxygen or paper or whatever on the embers of a dying fire, and suddenly I’m lighting up again violently and throwing sparks everywhere, and it doesn’t matter who gets caught in the crossfire as long as I burn.  _

_ I hate it. I hate myself for it. I hate that I’m burning everything I touch, that I’m being smothered, that I’m burning out.  _

_ But I don’t know how to stop, and I don’t know if I even can? And I don’t know who to ask for help, because I don’t want to make things worse. I don’t want to lose Zo or Mom or Dad any more than I did.  _

_ Well, no, that’s not quite right. I’ve already lost them, or I guess they already lost me. Either way, they’re – they’re at a safe distance now, I hope. I just don’t want them to get close enough that they get burned again. I couldn’t stand that.  _

_ Well this is way more private than anything I’ll ever share with anyone ever, and I didn’t even do the fucking ‘today is going to be a good day and here’s why’ assignment. I just vented about a long, drawn-out, shitty fire metaphor. So I guess I’ll just rewrite the letter and hide this copy where nobody will ever see it, or burn it or something. That’d be some symbolic bullshit, wouldn’t it? Yeah, that’s what I’ll do when I get out of this shithole.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Me.  _

***

“Kick his  _ ass,  _ Altair!” Vega cheered from beside Sham, Mizar sitting on the roof of The Arrow as Alcor and Altair faced each other from opposite ends of a grassy space. There were a couple of cherry blossom trees behind Altair, probably perpetually in bloom due to some in-game bullshit.

“C’mon, Alcor, you got this!” Mizar cheered, standing on her hands while on the roof (impossibly, for whatever reason). 

Sham blew a whistle – where this had come from, Vega was entirely uncertain – but it kickstarted the battle in an instant. 

The earth shook as purple veins reached from its depths, light spilling to the surface and casting Alcor’s face in shadow. Speaking of shadows, his began to move and waver – a power growing, far beyond his own. 

Altair swept his scythe in a wide arc, the grass below it falling dead as the trees twisted and withered away into nothing, green burning behind his eyes as the flowers in his pockets began to grow and shift, these of a much more poisonous variety than the ones he had used when out hunting with Mizar. 

This was a special occasion, after all. He was going to get to kick Alcor’s ass, and that – well, that  _ never  _ happens. 

The earth stopped trembling as Alcor’s shadow leapt to life, the shadow’s eyes glowing the same purple as the strings that connected to Alcor’s hands. It slipped in and out of tangibility, running along Altair’s vines and reaching closer, closer –

Just as it reached out to grab at Altair, the grim reaper in question’s eyes shot open, the vines around him instantaneously dropping dead as the trees behind him burst to life in a blinding flurry of cherry blossoms and wood. The trees themselves had made a grab for Alcor’s shadow, squeezing it tightly enough that it slipped back out of existence. 

Altair’s heart hammered as he twirled his scythe again, returning the clearing to the same zeroed-out state it had been before – restoring balance to the area. 

He stepped across the field to Alcor, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, expression amused. “Do you fold?” He asked, a smile playing at his lips. 

“Yeah, you got me. There’s a reason I play support!” Alcor rolled his eyes, bumping Altair’s shoulder. “Vega, Sham, you’re up next!” 

The two of them took their places at opposite ends of the field – Vega had a strange contraption in his hands, somewhat a combination of a wrist rocket and a straight-up catapult. Sham had just grabbed her bow, feeling the same steady curve that it had always held. 

“Using my own creation against me? That’s a low blow,” Vega taunted, an eyebrow raised. 

“We built this together, don’t go taking credit for something you don’t deserve,” Sham scoffed. “It’s  _ my _ magic –”

“– and  _ my  _ design,” Vega rolled his eyes. “Do you honestly think I could build you something optimized to a magic I can’t fully understand due to it not being my own? Yeah, it’s powerful, but what I’ve got here? Way better. Meet the ‘Loud, Brash, Pain-in-the-Ass’! The name is courtesy of Mizar, of course – I just love the ring it’s got to it. So I named my game-breaking superweapon after it! You’re welcome, you’ve been immortalized.” 

“Wow, thanks,” Mizar tumbled off the roof, clearly unamused. She did a flip on the way down, reminding everyone that there was a kick-ass ranger in their midst. “Y’all can start whenever.”

Sham drew back the intangible, invisible string on her bow – in the sky there glimmered a constellation. Leo, to be precise – a definite favorite of hers. 

As she fired, an arrow of light took on Leo’s form – a lion racing toward Vega, who tumbled out of the way as the lion roared and charged – it ended up crashing into the wall of the back area, which crumbled into lots of pieces. 

Vega took aim and fired, a massive green and black fireball careening toward Sham. She dodged as well, and the fireball created a massive crater, killing everything within the blast radius. 

Sham took aim again – this time using Orion and Sagittarius, who appeared to be beside her, taking aim as well. 

A volley of starry arrows fell on Vega, who did his best to cast a shield before throwing another strange explosive at Sham –

– who dodged, firing one last arrow at Vega – this one using Sagitta, a weaker weapon but one that would  _ never _ miss. 

This one landed, pinning Vega to the ground and causing him to literally smoke as he threatened to catch on fire. 

“Damn, even telegraphing your attacks in such an obvious way I managed to lose,” Vega huffed. “You win fair and square, hotshot. Don’t let it get to your head.” He let Sham help him to his feet, dusting himself off as he went to pout beside Alcor. 

“Mizar! You up to go against Altair?” 

“Fuck no,” Mizar snorted. “I forfeit! I don’t wanna fight Altair  _ or  _ Sham, they’re both terrifying, plus my entire tactic is to dodge, hide behind things, and hit from a distance! Can’t do that in this field.” 

“Fair,” Alcor shrugged. “I still reserve the right to call you a coward though.” 

“Entirely valid and I could not agree more,” Mizar nodded. 

Sham and Altair stood across from each other now – Altair wasn’t even bothered the way he usually was, this time electing to start from up in a tree. 

“Ready...go!” Vega cheered, and neither of them moved to start the battle. 

Sham adjusted her stance, drawing her bow, drawing the string back and firing a simple Sagitta – Altair deflected easily, a green shield popping into existence with a wave of his hand as a patch of grass died. 

Altair reached into his pockets, shifting around the package of pomegranate seeds and finding the four leaf clover he was looking for. Gripping it tightly, he drained  _ everything.  _

The grass withered and died and the trees fell away. There was a sluggishness – a lethargy, really, that crept into the bones of all present. 

He leapt down from his tree, twirling his scythe and letting the green around him give way to another color – a deep red, burning ever-so-slightly behind his eyes, a power he’d known of for a while but had not dared to touch. 

He placed the clover on the ground, nudging the dirt slightly as Sham tried to fire again – this time with Scorpio, who landed a hit but not one significant enough to do much damage. 

The ground shot to life, vines of all kinds reaching and snatching the bow right out of Sham’s hands. They pulled at her ankles, trying to drag her into the ground –

– she let silver filter through her fingertips, the moon glowing just a bit brighter as she cut the vines away, her eyes narrowed as she let the crescents take shape just beyond her fingertips. This was unfiltered,  _ brutal  _ sky magic. 

It was exactly what she’d need to defeat Altair, who was glowing red with the sheer force of life and death that he carried in his hands. 

***

“Damn, that was a cool battle!” Mizar cheered. 

“Yeah,” Vega grinned. “Good thing we got to see all of it, yeah?” 

“Yeah! It would’ve  _ sucked  _ if it stopped after Sham stopped using her bow – then we couldn’t have seen –” Alcor was cut off by an excited Altair. 

“I know! It was  _ nuts.  _ And then I did the thing – I didn’t even know I could  _ do  _ that! I swear, we – we  _ gotta  _ participate in the Guild Rankings this year. It’s the first one they’re gonna have  _ ever,  _ plus – plus it’ll help us get stronger, and test our limits against actual, legitimate enemies!” 

“I dunno, Tarrie, we may not be ready for that kind of competition,” Vega wrinkled his nose. “I mean, we’re not pro gamers, and against First Folio? Or any of the other major guilds? We have a bunch of strong players, sure, but we’re like,  _ five  _ people. They have  _ thousands  _ to choose from.” 

“But it would be fun! And we don’t know if we don’t try,” Mizar argued. 

“Yeah! We should give it a shot at least,” Sham shrugged. “What’s the worst that happens?”

“We lose, our name gets dragged through the mud, and we’re laughed out of every gathering of the top twenty guilds for the rest of forever?” Alcor suggested, his tone deadpan as he huffed. 

“We get that  _ anyway, _ can’t get worse,” Mizar waved him off. “But we’ll take a vote when it gets closer in like, four months, yeah?” 

“Yeah!” 

***

Jared was tired. 

So was Vega. 

Honestly, they felt like different people sometimes. But then, Jared and Jare were different people, and that was only a difference of one  _ letter.  _

But then, it was weird what a difference one letter could make. 

Vega, Jared, Jare, and whoever the actual asshole that lived up in his head was. That was...a lot of people for one person to be. It stretched him too thin sometimes. 

The lies were too much. Too hard. He hated it, hated every moment, hated himself for having to lie like this, but what choice did he have?

Even Ev would think he was a freak. Zoe and Connor? They barely knew him and they’d hate him for it. And Alana would probably turn it into some kind of article or study. 

No, this was...private. He’d lie his whole life, and maybe he’d make someone else miserable in the process, but at least then he wouldn’t  _ fail  _ anyone. 

And maybe his parents were right. Maybe he really was a late bloomer, or maybe he really would just find the right person, and hadn’t yet. 

_ Maybe.  _

***

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ So you left this letter where anyone could find it in The Arrow – you were writing it before your guildmates got here, and then you just up and left once you all went out back to have your little power battle or whatever.  _

_ You’re not a fire. You’re a person. A person worth saving, because being human inherently makes you worth it. You’re a person, and being a person means you’re capable of change.  _

_ And maybe it’s gradual, something that you choose today, or tomorrow, or the day after. It starts with a smile in the hall to someone you like, a nice hello at breakfast to your Mom – whatever. It could be anything, it could be small, it could be big, but you  _ can  _ change.  _

_ To be human is to be – to be a possibility. You could be a million things, you choose what you are – more than that, you choose  _ who  _ you are. You choose who you want to become, and you follow through.  _

_ Even if it’s hard. Even if it means you gotta have the hard conversations with the people who can help you. Even if it means you gotta apologize for things you hate yourself for. Even if it means you gotta stop lying about something that hurts and burns in your gut and blazes in your bones, if it means you gotta stop denying who you are in reality so you can face reality.  _

_ You can choose. You can wake up and decide what kind of person you want to be, and what you want to do. So choose.  _

_ Choose to be a person worthy of loving. Choose to be a person who can wake up and have a conversation with your sister without exploding. Choose to be a person who can have a conversation without stealing or pushing from the nervous guy who goes to your school. Choose to be someone better. To stop hurting other people, to stop hurting yourself.  _

_ Choose to get help. To reach out.  _

_ There are people who love you, people who are waiting. People who want to help but don’t know how.  _

_ You’re a person, and being a person means you can change – can choose. Can be the person you want to be.  _

_ So take a moment, think, decide who you’re gonna be. And work for it, claw toward it with everything you’ve got. If you try, and try, and keep on trying, that’s all anyone could ever expect from you.  _

_ And remember there are people you can fall back on if you make the wrong choice.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Me.  _


	5. lovely little lies

“Hey Mom, hey Dad,” Jared was bustling around the kitchen making the beginnings of waffles – his phone was on the countertop, put on speaker as he fell into a familiar pattern. The sun hadn’t yet risen out the window – it was early, but his parents wanted to talk and they were in different time zones. He was always the one who had to keep ungodly hours to maintain their schedule. 

Which was. Fine. 

“Jared! How’s school going?” His father boomed into the phone. “Your teachers like you? Your grades are good?” 

“Yes! And I’ve made new friends, the year is going well –”

“Don’t worry about making friends, this year you need to focus on that last stretch before college! In four years you won’t even  _ remember  _ who you were friends with in high school, so all that really matters are good grades and good recommendations! And don’t partner with people just because you like them on projects, we don’t want that Evan kid dragging your grade down with presentations – not that he’s not wonderfully nice or anything, you know I love Heidi to death, but he’s got issues.” 

“I – I won’t,” Jared agreed. “It’s all about the last stretch, right? Then I’m off to college,” the  _ and I’m out of this house  _ went unsaid and unheard by the people on the other end of the line. 

“Anyway, there’s a man I work with – he has a daughter, she’s very involved in student government and she’s from a wonderful family, perhaps you two could try going out sometime? I know you’ve got  _ very  _ high standards, but –”

“No, I don’t – I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s all about the grades right now, right?” Jared’s voice was a little bit shaky. 

“If it’s because she’s a girl, one of my friends has a son who’s an absolute delight!” His mother piped up, and he could  _ hear  _ the grin on the other side of the screen. “He’s in band, he’d be a wonderful influence on you!” 

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to date in high school!”  _ Or ever.  _ “Right now it just doesn’t seem important, not compared to grades and recommendations!” 

“Your standards are too high. You need experience dating before you go off to college, experience for in college when you’re balancing academics and romance –”

“Maybe – maybe I don’t need romance? I’m going to be perfectly happy on my own, I don’t really think it’s necessary,” Jared held his breath while his parents formulated a response. 

“Jared, we’ve  _ talked  _ about this. Your hormones are perfectly fine, this ‘not liking people’ stuff is all in your head! You’re going to end up miserable and alone at this rate, your standards are too high, if you like boys that’s fine you just need to  _ talk  _ to us –”

“I don’t! I just – I don’t know,” Jared was quiet. 

“You need to go on a date, and soon. I worry sometimes about what that public school is putting in your head – you should’ve had a private education, like your mother and me. I still think it may be a decent idea for this year, to help you while you so clearly seem to be struggling in this last year of development –”

“I’m  _ fine _ , Dad. I’ll go on the dumb date.” 

“Wonderful! It’s Friday at seven – that should be fine, you have no extracurriculars that would get in the way. Have a good day, we need to go for a meeting now – bye!” 

The waffles were done. 

They didn’t taste very good. There must’ve been something wrong in the ingredients – that would explain why Jared felt so sick to his stomach. 

***

“I said I’m  _ fine,  _ Mom! I want to go back to school, just because Connor is – that doesn’t mean I need to uproot my life!” Zoe snarled, her voice shockingly vicious. “Just because he’s on fire doesn’t mean the rest of us need to get burned, I just want today to be  _ normal,  _ alright?” 

She didn’t wait for an answer, swirling out the door before she could get one. She was going to  _ walk  _ to school, she was going to turn in all her  _ fucking _ make up work, and she was going to have a  _ normal fucking day.  _

Because she was  _ fine.  _ Everything was  _ fine.  _ Fuck her brother, why should she care what’s going on with him? 

She was  _ fine.  _ She hadn’t cared in the past, and she sure as fuck didn’t care _ now. _

It was fine. 

***

Alana didn’t want to get out of bed. 

She’d gone to sleep so late the night before – after playing with the other members of Sagitta, she had a lot of work to do, even if it was only two or three days into the school year. She was so  _ tired,  _ everything hurt. Her chest was hollow and her stomach hurt and she wanted nothing more than to stay home. 

She rolled over, letting her feet slip out of the blanket and hit the floor before her body was actually out of the bed. Her feet stung with cold as her eyes adjusted to the light, and she felt the sharply cool air fill her lungs. 

She rubbed her eyes, letting out a faint yawn. 

_ Get up,  _ Alana. __

_ You need to get this done,  _ Alana. 

_ You don’t want to fail to meet their expectations,  _ Alana. 

_ Don’t let them down,  _ Alana. 

_ Get  _ up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i'm back on my bullshit.


	6. walk away

Jared’s stomach burned with dread. 

Zoe was back in school, which was nice! And normal! And she sat with them at lunch, which was  _ really weird,  _ but she said something about them being the only ones who ‘got it’ about Connor and who ‘wouldn’t treat her weird’. 

Which was  _ honestly  _ fairly true. They knew Connor. They lo– _ liked _ Connor a lot, they knew him ‘cuz of Folio without any of the weird prior ideas they may’ve had about him from school and such. 

But regardless of any of that, Jared felt a dread that stewed in his stomach all week long. It built and it stewed and Jared felt like he was a terrible person. 

Thursday night, Evan cornered him while he was tinkering in Folio. 

“Hey, Vega, let’s go hunt some materials together?” Altair raised an eyebrow at Vega, who knew that despite the way that it sounded it was very much not a question. 

“Yeah, alright.” Vega threw his stuff into his inventory, standing up and reviewing the explosives he had with him incredibly quickly. 

It was a tense but quick journey into the forest. Vega was not surprised when Altair whirled on him and leaned on his scythe a little bit, as if hiding behind it. 

“What – what the hell is going on with you this week?” Evan narrowed his eyes. “You’re acting – really really weird. Is it Connor? Is that – is that bothering you? Or – or is it something that happened over the summer? What is going on with you?” 

“It’s  _ fine,  _ Tarrie. It’s not your business anyway – we’re only  _ family friends.”  _

He tried to push past Altair, but found a wall of vines in his way. 

“Don’t – don’t walk away,” Evan was quiet. “Stop walking away from me, Jared! Stop acting like we’re not friends when we – we used to be! Remember Minecraft? And Taco Tuesdays with my mom? Didn’t that mean  _ anything _ to you?” 

“It meant  _ everything _ to me, Ev!” Jared’s voice cracked. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ accuse me of being the one who walked away. You quit on it before I did, and  _ fuck you  _ for implying otherwise. If not for my car insurance, I would’ve stopped talking to you after the way  _ you  _ acted in freshman year.” 

“What – what are you talking about?” 

“You – you know exactly what I’m talking about,  _ Evan!  _ You stopped talking to me, you – you stopped caring! You just hid behind your books and your video games and you stopped coming to me for anything other than when you were in desperate need of aid, otherwise you just avoided me. And I know you have anxiety, you did that stuff with everyone else – but never  _ me.  _ You talk about Taco Tuesday and Minecraft and probably even Dungeons & Dragons, but I never quit! I invited you, all the  _ fucking time!  _ And you said no, you were busy, you never invited  _ me  _ anywhere. So I stopped asking! And then my parents noticed we were talking less and said that if I’m nice to you they’ll pay for my car insurance, so you know what? I did it! And I regret it. Fuck you, Evan!  _ Asshole.” _

Evan took a step back, and Jared knew he went too far. The car insurance thing wasn’t even  _ true,  _ he was just – tired, and stressed, and hurting.  _ God  _ was he hurting. 

This time he didn’t even try walking away. He logged out of the game, feeling his face burn and tears roll down his cheeks. 

***

The entire guild was shooting him weird looks during school the next day. Jared knew when he wasn’t wanted – he avoided sitting with them in classes, and skipped lunch to sit in the library and doodle out a design for his next creation. It was originally supposed to be a new scythe for Evan – one that could store and channel energy the same way the flowers in his hair did. He was gonna change it so it would work better for Connor, using shadow magic instead of death magic. 

It sucked, and he was hungry, but at least he wasn’t getting yelled at by the rest of the group. They couldn’t glare daggers at him if he wasn’t even in the same room as them. 

***

“Dude, what’s going on with you and Vega?” Mizar asked when Altair returned alone to the tavern, his face burning and a kill count that was  _ significantly  _ higher than when he left. 

“He – he’s a dick. He refuses to even see the other side of things! I – I was struggling, he  _ had  _ to know that, he couldn’t – couldn’t expect me to be there for him when I couldn’t even be there for myself! He’s being selfish, I was – I was trying to  _ help –” _

“What did he say to you?” Sham asked, looking up from where she was polishing the countertop. 

“He said – he said that he regrets being my friend, that he regrets talking to me,” Evan could feel his chin trembling and his face burned with embarrassment. “I – I just – I – I don’t even know –”

He broke down. 

And none of  _ them _ walked away. 

***

It was time for the ‘date’. 

Jared was dreading it. This was the thing that made him explode, that made his stomach swim with anxiety and regret and a weird third feeling he couldn’t quite place. 

He didn’t dress up. Not much, anyway – he was going to be himself and find a way for this girl to hate him so he didn’t end up in a relationship he didn’t want, because that would suck and hurt in so many ways. 

But maybe that was what it was supposed to be? Maybe he was, like,  _ supposed  _ to not really want or like it but then he’d give it a shot and fall in love or something. Or maybe nobody really liked it that much but they thought it was a necessity so they just went with it. 

He didn’t know. Not really. He didn’t  _ want  _ to know, because he didn’t  _ want  _ to force himself into being someone new, someone different. Even if it was the only way people would like him, he didn’t  _ want  _ it. 

He got to the restaurant they were supposed to meet at – maybe they wouldn’t even show? That would be great. Then maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit, and it wouldn’t even be this fault this time like it was with Dana. A part of him hated Dana, hated  _ remembering _ Dana, and this was shaping up to be  _ just like it.  _

“You?” Alana’s voice was surprised and just a little sardonic. “Of course I get set up on a date with –”

“– Fucking hell,” Jared breathed. “Okay, so we can both walk away here and say we tried, right? Because you probably hate me as much as Ev does right now, and god knows I don’t want in a relationship.” 

“I don’t hate you,” Alana slid into the booth, rolling her eyes as she opened the menu. “And this isn’t a date if you don’t want it to be, that would defeat the entire point anyway. We can just...talk? Maybe I can help you and Ev with your whole communication thing because you seem to have some...issues.” 

“Tell me about it,” Jared sighed as he took a long sip of his root beer. “He probably hates me and probably has for a  _ while  _ now. It sucks. We were best friends, y’know? But then I got all weird in sixth grade and then  _ he  _ got all weird as a freshman and I just...I dunno. I hate it. I think I hate him, just a  _ little  _ bit, but I hate me for hating him because at the same time he’s like, still probably the closest thing to a family I’ve got? It’s messy. And complicated.” 

“All relationships are, I think?” Alana stole Jared’s soda and took a sip. “Have you talked to him? About any of this? About why you got weird, and asked him why  _ he _ got weird?” 

“He’d hate me if I told him,” Jared swiped back his soda, poking at the bubbles in the glass with his straw. “He’d think I’m a freak. ‘Cuz I think I’m a freak, and my parents do too. And I don’t want him to hate me. At least if he hates me for the shit I said it’s because of something I said and not for something I am.” 

“What are you so afraid of?” 

“I don’t like – I don’t like,  _ like  _ guys. Or girls. Or anyone? I just – I never have. And I never will. And I know, I  _ know,  _ don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it, I’ll meet the right person and it’ll all work out, but I don’t want it and I’ve tried and it  _ sucked,  _ okay? It really fucking sucked and I hated it because it felt wrong the entire time, even though Dana was a wonderful person and would’ve made a kickass friend I just didn’t feel the same way she did and that’s really shitty of me, I  _ know,  _ I should just be able to  _ feel these things  _ but I don’t, I don’t and I never have –”

“It’s – Jared, you don’t  _ need  _ to like romantic relationships! It’s totally okay if you don’t, there’s a whole community of people like you! It’s – aromanticism? And if you’re not sexually attracted to anyone, either, asexuality is – the same thing, but for that? And they’re a scale, so you don’t need to be totally sure to identify as one or the other. And even if you do and it turns out to be wrong, sexuality and romantic orientations are totally fluid, so it’s fine?” 

“But – but everyone is supposed to find  _ their person.  _ And I just – don’t get that? I won’t ever find that thing that every book, movie, and musical shoves in my face, and that hurts? Like – like – why would people emphasize it so much if it  _ didn’t matter?”  _

“Because they don’t get that there are so many kinds of love, and that’s sad.” Alana smiled a little sadly at Jared. 

“But my parents said that it’s – none of this stuff is real. It’s all in my head, right? I’m making a big deal out of nothing, I’m  _ choosing –” _

“It sounds like you need a friend, not some dumb date. I can be a friend if you need, and a fake girlfriend if you need. We can lie to our parents and sneak out for milkshakes and convince them we’re up to no good. Sound fun?” 

“That’ll get ‘em off my back for sure,” Jared breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you – what are the words again? Asexual and aromantic?” 

“I don’t think so,” Alana shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’m not looking for a relationship right now, but I think I’d like to be in one someday. We’ll see. Until then, you and I can fake date to get our parents off our back, and nobody else has to know that we’re even doing it.” 

“And you can help me fix things with Evan?” 

“Yeah, I can. I  _ will.  _ Promise.” Alana held out a pinky to Jared, who rolled his eyes and wrapped his own around hers – something about the childish gesture meant something, weirdly enough. 

“I – thanks, Alana.” 

“Of course! And – your parents are wrong, by the way. About all of it. You owe them nothing. Don’t do stuff like come out on dates like this to make them happy, because it won’t. They’re going to live and die miserable and it’s their own fault.” 

“...thanks, Alana.” 

“What are friends for?” 

_ “Best _ friends,” Jared corrected. “You’ve earned that, at least. And friends versus best friends – they’re totally different things.” 

“Was Evan your best friend once, too?

“Nah, he was my family friend. That was always...always it’s own thing.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” 

“More than anything.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone called what i’ve got so far of my musical a ‘platonic love story’ and i’m crying???? god i just wanna finish writing the book/lyrics so i can try to find a composer because i gave up on doing this whole mess myself especially a score because i’m under qualified as hEck but i just really really wanna do this so bad aaaaa
> 
> godddddd i love writing aroace rep


	7. Vega and Altair

_ Dearest Void to which this is written –  _

_ There’s this myth. It’s an old one, about Vega and Altair. Y’see, according to this myth, they were actually two people, and they were in love. There are variations on the story – sometimes Vega is an immortal star spirit and Altair is a mortal who Vega loves dearly, sometimes Altair is a star spirit too, but there are certain things that remain the same.  _

_ Once the two are in love and have finally found themselves together again, a greater power separates them. They’re only allowed to meet once a year – on the seventh day of the seventh month.  _

_ It’s sad, isn’t it? Some people call it romantic – I find it sad. To love so deeply someone who you can never see, to have them love you back and to know you’re causing them so much pain – that would hurt more than anything. If I were one of the stars, I’d have cut my counterpart off – maybe it would hurt them in the short term, but they’d be happier in the long term without me. I wouldn’t be causing them pain, which is what matters most. If it keeps the people I love happy, or makes them happier in the long term, I’ll do whatever it takes. Even if they think I suck for doing it, at least I know they’d find someone who they can actually be with.  _

_ But maybe that’s just me. I’m no ‘romantic’ – literally. I never really have been. I love, sure, but I’ve never really been ‘in’ love. And I guess being ‘in’ love makes people crazy, and selfish.  _

_ But then, I think that’s just a side effect of loving at all. Because I’m selfish, and I sure know that I’ve gotta be crazy if I’m willing to hurt people like this.  _

_ No more. I don’t want to hurt people like that anymore. I’m tired of being that person – but I don’t really know who else to be, so I guess I’m kinda stuck. So stuck, in fact, that I decided to pull a Hansen and write a dumb letter to myself. Though I can’t call it a Hansen anymore when I caught Murphy doing it earlier this week.  _

_ Well fuck it, whatever, it’s helped me get more coherent with my thoughts and emotions to do it this way. Even if it means I’ve revealed to this piece of paper that I’m a star nerd and also aromantic, which is gonna be a hell of a thing to explain if anyone ever finds this, so I’m probably just gonna burn it when it’s done being written. That’ll work, right? Get rid of the evidence sufficiently.  _

_ Fuck it, I’m tired. This format is so fucked I’m not even gonna bother trying to correct it. It did its job and now I’m gonna throw it into the void.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Me.  _

***

“It’s gonna be ‘Everybody Wang Chung tonight,’” Jared shifted on the couch, his eyes narrowed at the TV. “You know that, right?” 

“They haven’t even started, you can’t know that yet!” Alana glanced up at him from the floor, her hand blindly reaching for popcorn. “All we know is that it’s a song lyric and it has that many letter – oh, you’re totally right, that’s  _ exactly  _ what it’s gonna be.” 

“I’m a Wheel of Fortune master,” Jared leaned down and stole some popcorn out of Alana’s bowl, his own having been emptied earlier that evening. Their ‘date’ had been pretty weird, but Jared actually thought that Alana was pretty cool, so he invited her over to just...spend time together with a friend. Without any weirdness. Which was really nice, actually? 

So they were watching Wheel of Fortune reruns and eating crappy junk food because Jared was wallowing in self pity, and Alana could respect the need for crappy junk food after a hell of an emotional week. She was just glad he hadn’t hit the ice cream phase yet. 

“You think you’re good at Wheel, you should see me at Family Feud. I’m a  _ legend,”  _ Alana smiled, throwing a piece of popcorn at Jared as he reached into her bowl again before taking a little for herself. 

“Considering the amount of surveys you run for the school, that’s not surprising in the slightest.” Jared got up and wandered over to the kitchen, settling on opening a new box of Lucky Charms that he was  _ probably _ going to finish tonight at this rate. 

There was a knock at the door. Alana got up to answer – it was probably a pizza that Jared had answered at some point, honestly. 

So when Evan was on the other side, she was...well. Not sure what to do. 

“Is Jared home?” He fidgeted, looking over her shoulder. “We – we need to talk.” 

***

Mizar didn’t usually use blades. She usually was inclined to shoot things with magic-infused bullets from a distance, a funky sci-fi/fantasy rogue that did her job because it was her job, not for any kind of pleasure. 

This was  _ not _ that. This was something brutal, and visceral, and it nearly made  _ Alcor _ of all people recoil. She was slicing through the opposition with a feral grin in her face, the numbers climbing higher and higher with every second. This wasn’t grinding for drops anymore, or even just leveling or training. This was something angry, a release of pent up rage and frustration into something that was terrifying to behold. 

She let out a laugh, and it was  _ bizarre  _ for a brief moment. Because it was the same laugh she always had – a giggle with a little bit of a snort, something that was just a part of  _ her,  _ a laugh that Alcor used to work so hard to draw out. 

But here, in this setting, for as much as it was the same as it had always been, it was  _ different. _ Meaner, maybe, or just a bit more cynical. 

Alcor couldn’t help but wonder if he’d accidentally worked to draw this laugh out, too. 

***

To say that what Jared had said was tearing Evan up inside was – well, it was an understatement. The understatement of the fucking  _ century,  _ actually, because it had set Evan off into a spiral of overthinking and regret the likes of which had never been seen before. 

Well, actually that was a lie too? Because that was sort of common for Evan – it was sorta his thing. Overthinking things, that is. But usually he had Jared to cut through it with a snide joke when it got too intense, or at least who he could vent to instead of keeping it all in his head and letting it bubble and stew and coalesce into something weird and foreign and so Evan that it looped right back around to being not-Evan-at-all. 

The longer Evan stewed, the more he realized that maybe, just a  _ little bit, _ Jared was right? Maybe he wasn’t entirely right, because he didn’t get it all, but then, Evan had never really...talked to Jared. About any of it. And maybe he should’ve, because communication is  _ important  _ or something, but he just...never had? 

Which, like, screw him, he could never even talk to his best friend and worst enemy which were  _ sorta kinda the same person  _ and  _ wow  _ was that a screwy thing, wasn’t his brain a fun place to live! 

So he shook off his anxiety and knocked on Jared’s door. 

Alana answered. Which.  _ Ow.  _ Jared had replaced him already, and it hadn’t even been a week. 

Still. Communication. What he came here for.  _ Right.  _

“Is Jared home?” He tried to peak over her shoulder, biting his bottom lip. “We – we need to talk.”

“He’s in the kitchen,” Alana didn’t move. “If you’re going to talk to him tonight, I need you to promise you’re not going to make this worse. He’s had a rough day and an even rougher week, he doesn’t need anyone making it worse.” 

“I just wanna talk, to – to apologize, I guess? But also to explain to him about – about a couple things. Because he seems to think things are one way but they’re not  _ really  _ and it’s gonna suck if he thinks things are that way forever because it’s been driving a rift between us for a really long time and I hate it, I hate how screwy things got, and I just – I really,  _ really  _ just wanna talk. But if he doesn’t want to, that’s – that’s okay, I can come back another time, or we could talk in Folio if he wants, I just want – I just want my friend back.” 

“Alright,” Jared walked across the room from the doorway to the kitchen. Alana shuffled to the side as he narrowed his eyes at Evan, who could feel his heart thundering in his chest. “Let’s talk.” 

***

“A decisive victory for the forces of peace and love!” Mizar cheered, a bright smile on her face as she reached the other side of the path she and Alcor had been traveling. 

“You literally slaughtered hundreds of goblins –”

_ “A decisive victory for the forces of peace and love!”  _

***

A steaming mug of hot chocolate rested in Jared’s hands, one that matched sitting between Evan’s. They were seated at opposite ends of his kitchen table, and Alana was standing right by the door, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“Okay boys, I’ll give you your privacy but play nice? And call me if you need a moderator.” 

That left Evan and Jared. Alone. In a room with hot chocolate and a table and lots of weird, hard feelings. 

“I wasn’t doing well in freshman year. And – and not your run of the mill ‘not doing well’. It was the – the bad kind. The anxiety spiral kind of bad, where you can’t really talk to anyone at all, and – I was so scared. All the  _ fucking  _ time. I can’t – I can’t bring myself to talk around people normally on a  _ good _ day, and every day was a bad day. It was like – like I was so scared that people were sick of my bullshit that maybe it would just be better if I faded into the background, because at least that way I wouldn’t be bothering anybody. And I thought – I was at that age when I realized that the young me was cringey as hell, and I realized maybe you thought so too, and I didn’t want – I didn’t want you to be embarrassed around me? And it got – it got  _ bad –” _

“Sixth grade,” Jareed was quiet. “I was in sixth grade, I asked you if you had a crush on anyone, and you  _ immediately  _ had an answer for me. And then you asked if I had one on anybody, and I told you it was a secret. I asked again in seventh grade, you gave a different answer and I gave the same one. Same thing in eighth grade. Freshman year, I didn’t bother asking. ‘Cuz I knew what your answer would be, and I was sick of being asked for mine. Freshman year, I wanted to ask you a different question – and I couldn’t, because you were never there for me to ask.” 

“I didn’t mean to drift away like that – or, well, I  _ did,  _ but I never meant to hurt you, and I should’ve apologized. But you can ask now, I guess?” 

“Do you think it’s weird that I’ve never had a crush on anyone? Or been attracted to anyone in that way, or that I don’t really want that kind of relationship? Is there something wrong with the fact that the most important people in my life are my friends, that I love them as deeply as people say the whole being in love thing is?” 

“No,” Evan blinked. “Jared, are you –”  
“I found out that there are words for it _this evening,”_ Jared curled around his mug of hot chocolate, his throat closing up ever so slightly. “I found out this evening that I was an ‘aromantic asexual’ and I – I hate it. I _hate_ the not-knowing. I needed you. I needed _somebody._ And now I have to fake-date Alana for my parents and everything has gone to – _shit,_ Ev, I don’t know what to do.” Jared was crying. 

Evan didn’t know what to do, not really. He picked at his cast for a moment before standing up and wrapping Jared in a hug. It was awkward, and probably uncomfortable – what with his arm being in a cast and all – but the sentiment was there. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Evan promised. “I’m staying right here, if you want me. I promise.” 

“I’m so  _ tired,  _ Ev,” Jared cried into Evan’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have to pretend, I shouldn’t have to act like something I’m not, I shouldn’t –”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Evan agreed. “We’ll figure something out, I promise. I  _ promise.”  _


	8. Supernova

Her rage was visceral, vindictive, and blazing through her with everything she had. 

Nothing she did was good enough. None of her pretty little words were pretty enough, her prose was unpolished and unpredictable, she couldn’t say what she meant or mean what she said, and it was spiraling. She was losing control, and she wanted to take it  _ back.  _ To have something that she was capable of controlling, to be able to hold something in her hands and make a  _ choice.  _

Because dammit she was tired of having her choices made for her. 

Her brother thought he wasn’t good enough to stay, so he decided to leave. 

Her mother thought her brother needed help but she was fine, so she spent her evenings alone. 

Her father thought she was a perfect little princess, a musician who had lots of friends and even made good grades! 

She was  _ sick  _ of it. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach – she was none of that, and all of that, and she was  _ done  _ with that. 

“Zo.  _ Zo.  _ We have what we need, we should go back to base now –” Her brother’s voice was quiet, sincere, and he had the  _ audacity  _ to sound worried. 

She needed to squash that here and now. 

“I’m not finished yet,  _ Connor.”  _ Her tone was ice – to those around it it seemed cold, but to the touch it felt almost like it would burn, and it forced those in direct contact to recoil immediately. Despite that the words would stick until they disappeared from the mind entirely – but the impression remained. “I want to play a game and have some normal fucking fun. Do you have a  _ problem  _ with that?” 

“It’s getting late, and really this seems unnecessary –”

“That’s not your call to make! I can make my own damn decisions, and I’ve decided I’m staying out and  _ killing some more fucking goblins!”  _

“...alright. But I’m heading in now. Please don’t – don’t be stupid, stupid.” 

“I won’t,” Zoe twirled a knife between her fingers, not even turning around as her brother logged out. 

***

Zoe lost herself in the motions. 

She’d finished with killing goblins – and then she took on a dragon, which was honestly the hardest thing she’d ever done by herself but she’d  _ done it anyway  _ just to prove she could and that nobody could stop her. And nobody did! And then she had all these great drops and needed to sell ‘em somewhere, and Sham’s tavern was closed, so she had to go somewhere  _ else.  _

And there was this really great place by the edge of town – Morningstar’s Peak, they saw what she brought in and sold it to her for ridiculous amounts of gold! And at that point she felt like she should blow it on something fun, so she bought a drink bar and by then there was some fun music playing, and it’s not like there was any harm in a little  _ dancing,  _ right? 

Her feet pressed against the ground, and  _ damn  _ the VR was solid because she could feel her muscles tensing and releasing as she did an eye-high kick, the little voice of her ballet training from when she was younger reminding her that it was called a ‘grand battement’. She let her heel scuff the ground, a feral smile on her face as her hair fluttered around her in a wild tangle of curls and light. The entire area smelled of old wood and vanilla, and her heels continued to click-click against the ground as she jumped and twirled and laughed, moving from one dance partner to the next to the next, never overstaying her welcome. 

Her heart thundered in her chest, and for once she felt  _ happy.  _ Because nobody else in Sagitta would be caught  _ dead  _ doing this. Nobody else in her school would be caught dead in a virtual reality game dancing in a tavern after killing a dragon single handedly, and it made her feel powerful. _ Wanted, _ even. Which was nice, if unusual. 

So she lost herself in that feeling. Reveled in it. Because for once she was somewhere where she was respected for being who  _ she was,  _ and people knew  _ her –  _ not Connor, not  _ Sagitta,  _ not ‘jazz band’ – they were there for Mizar, who was just Zoe by another name. A cover for her would-be self. 

She feels her game start to lag a bit – her vision blurs and suddenly people are moving faster than they could be otherwise, so she heads to the bar for another drink while her system catches up. 

Someone slips into the seat beside her, and she immediately recognizes them. Not who they are, but rather,  _ what  _ they are. Because they wear the same golden mask that covers the face of every one of her greatest enemies – of  _ Sagitta’s  _ greatest enemies. 

This is a high ranking member of the largest guild in the game, and the current number one guild in all of Folio – Frodoshroom. They had a silly name, but that wasn’t to fool anyone – this was clearly a member of the top party within the guild, known primarily as Masquerade – this being due to the masks that they wore literally everywhere. There were twelve of them, each of whom ranked within the top thirteen in the game – Altair disrupted their streak, ranking at about sixth. He was really quite smug about the whole thing, and the rest of Sagitta knew if they actually bothered to check in with the player rankings often enough that it showed their actual power levels that it would put them up there too, but they didn’t much care. 

And yet here this person was – a member of Frodoshroom, and one of the twelve Masquerade. How odd. 

“It’s impressive that you managed to take down a dragon on your own. Not many adventurers could do that,” they sound polite. Kind, even. “I’m impressed. Is everyone from your guild as strong as you?” 

“Yeah,” Zoe rolls her eyes with a scoff because of  _ course  _ this person is just digging for info on Sagitta. Of  _ course  _ nobody would talk to her for her. 

“Well, it’s impressive regardless. You seem to be the most...outgoing of them. The best at dealing with large groups of people. With  _ direction.”  _

Huh. She never thought people  _ noticed  _ that stuff outside the guild, but it was true enough. It was...nice to be appreciated. Something warm flickered in her chest. 

_ Pride.  _

“Thanks, I guess? I’m a fairly outgoing person, it’s whatever.” 

“We need more people like you in Frodoshroom. Honestly, I was dealing with Twelve the other day – y’know, from Masquerade? She’s the weakest of us right now, and honestly I’m floored at her incapability with leading our troops. It’s not  _ hard  _ to tell them to go from point A to point B and then  _ hit the boss until it dies  _ but apparently it’s too hard for her. Can you believe it? So we’re probably gonna drop her off the team and that means we gotta find a replacement. Which  _ sucks,  _ but it’s not my fault Una said she’s gotta go.” 

“Tell me about it,” Zoe took a sip of her drink. “My brother – Alcor? He’s good at this game.  _ Really  _ good. And he’s a year older than me, so he takes the fact that he’s a little better than I am and a little older and uses it as an excuse to tell me what to do. ‘Mizar, go to bed!’ ‘Mizar, hunt slimes instead of goblins!’ ‘Mizar, use a different type of ammo!’ It’s  _ exhausting. _ I dread going out on raids with him sometimes.” 

“You’re probably incredibly fun to go out on raids with. Your brother and the rest of Sagitta don’t deserve you,” the masked figure said, and it made Zoe...really happy. It was nice. To be appreciated, to be acknowledged. “Hey – we have an open spot in Masquerade, you’re  _ clearly  _ strong enough...you should join us. Join Frodoshroom. You could tell people what to do, you’d have all the resources you want, nobody could ever control the way you play again.” 

“I – I don’t know about all that,” it sounded nice. Too nice. She didn’t trust it. “Can I think on it?” 

“Think as long as you want,” the masked person handed her a card – it thrummed with magic, having the Roman numerals ‘II’ upon its surface. This was Dos – the second strongest player in the game. “When you want me there, this’ll send me a notification. It’s enchanted – obviously. I don’t need to tell a smart girl like you that. But if you want to join Masquerade – join Frodoshroom – let me know. I’m only a thought away.” 

They disappeared in a flurry of golden sparks. It was flashy magic, sure, but still impressive – teleportation was no easy feat. Light magic was even harder, and Dos was the strongest with it in the game. They’d mastered it in much the same way Altair had mastered death magic, using it to teleport around the battlefield and blind enemies. They were a  _ legend.  _

And they’d just offered Zoe a spot in their guild. They’d offered  _ her  _ a spot. Not Connor, not anyone else in Sagitta, not the pretend image of Zoe she kept up some of the time – they’d offered it to Mizar, the name of Zoe’s would-be self. The would-be if she could be confident enough to actually say and do what she wanted. 

It was...nice. To be wanted. And to not have to do what someone else wanted. 

Zoe had a choice to make. An important choice. 

She logged off, vowing not to tell anyone about the decision she was going to spend the next several days stewing on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am three sets of song lyrics away from having a completed first draft of my musical!! it's gonna be done by mid august, and then begins the search for someone to compose the score!!! it's so exciting :)))))


	9. the asterism

“I just got grappled by a broom. By a fucking _broom!”_ Vega hissed, shuffling hay out of his hair. “This is why we _use the buddy system,_ Altair!” 

“I told you not to go in the broom closet,” Altair sighed. “I _told_ you that the House of Death _always_ has an asshole magic broom in the closet, and the treasure in there doesn’t warrant investigation. But did you listen? Of _course_ not.” 

“Because I thought I could handle it! But then I was _grappled!_ By a _broom!_ How the fresh _fuck_ does that even work?” 

“Magic! You are – you are literally _talking to a grim reaper._ You are an _artificer_ who was sent here on a mission by the _faerie queen._ And you think it’s weird that you were grappled by a broom?” 

“Hopefully Mizar, Alcor, and Sham are having better luck in the basement.” Vega huffed. “The only things here are cobwebs and _demon brooms.”_

Something cold swept through the room. Altair whipped around, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as he felt a gaze on him, staring deep into the core of his being. 

“Do you –” Altair felt something cold muffle his speech. It was like the words were caught in his throat, like there was some kind of strainer that let the breath in and out of his lungs but cut his words short. 

Either there was magic at work or this was one of those damn areas where the in-game chat was muted. It was probably the first of those options – it would be strange for all chat to be muted here, and when you’re only muted by one person it manifests as you speaking and them not hearing, an error message popping up if you try to get their attention too much. 

He was...actually legitimately scared. Even though this was just a game, it was sometimes terrifying when they were in danger. 

Suddenly he felt like he’d taken a backseat in his own mind – Altair fell to the ground like a puppet who’d had their strings cut, and Evan floated just outside him as an invisible, inaudible observer. 

Speaking of Evan, he was _incredibly_ uncomfortable. He felt the way he imagined Cinderella did after her original dress was ripped before the ball, or like what he imagined it would feel like if someone violently ripped his Halloween mask off and exposed the scared boy underneath. 

“You alright, Altair?” Vega paused, his expression flashing with something akin to nerves. 

All of that paled in comparison to the _bizarre_ feeling of hearing his voice come out of Altair’s mouth. Except it wasn’t really his voice at all – the words were broken and chipped, the intonation not at all his. It was his voice mechanically – but it wasn’t _Evan._

“I’m perfectly fine! I tripped is all,” the Altair-that-was-not-Evan spoke. 

Vega narrowed his eyes immediately, his nose wrinkling. “You are _not_ Altair. Who are you?” 

“You picked that up fast,” the spirit leaned back on his heels, his shoulders dropping as he dropped any of the pretenses of Evan’s anxiety. His movements were eerily fluid, like a dance that only he knew the steps to. “I’m Oberon, King of the unSeelie Court. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vega. I have an offer for you – for all of Sagitta. I was originally going to take this moment to address Altair directly, but I may as well handle all of you at once, since you picked it up so quickly.” 

Evan flinched back toward Vega, finding himself hiding almost nervously behind his friend. 

“Can Altair hear us?” 

“Of course he can,” Oberon waved Altair’s hand as if wiping away Vega’s concerns. “I just lifted his soul from his body – it was surprisingly easy, actually! Typically mortals don’t have such a weak teather to their physical forms. He’s very near godhood – which would make him the first person to ascend since...well since _Dionysus_ did, all those years ago.” 

“Dionysus? Godhood? What are you playing at,” Vega drew a couple of vials from his pockets – Evan recognized these as a combination of holy water and some mild explosives. Perfect for a violent exorcism, he supposed. 

“There are things about Tatiana and me that you don’t know. This world works differently than you thought it did – we weren’t always going to be the rulers of the fae courts. We were an adventuring duo before that. The best. Same way the gods in charge of the continent to the south used to be. When you gain enough power, something within you – at the core of your being – it changes. There’s a shift. I can sense that each of you is near it, that change, that power. More so than any of the other guilds that claim to be powerful. So I wanted to give you an offer. Come to work for me. Be the new leaders of The Asterism, an alliance of guilds I would like to form in my court. You’d all be high ranking members of the court, have access to the Wild Hunt, I’d even be willing to pay you a hefty sum once or twice a month. The unSeelie are not what you’ve been told. We are different from the Seelie, but we aren’t _evil.”_

“You stole the body of one of my friends. That’s a very poor case,” Vega narrowed his eyes farther. “We can’t trust you. You _know_ we can’t trust you. You even came to us when we’re isolated. We’re not doing it. We’re not doing anything you say. Give Ev– _Altair_ back. Give him back _now.”_

“What are you going to do about it?” 

“First I’m going to use this,” Vega held up a vial that glowed a faint blue. “It’s a mix of water from Tatiana’s fountain, raw mana, and distilled starlight. Oh, and just a _hint_ of memory. It’s enough to turn any incorporeal being or form corporeal, and keep them trapped in place while steadily draining their magic sources. Then, I’m going to use _this,”_ the next vial was a deep black, firey orange bubbles running across the surface. “It’s the first in a line of poisons I’ve been developing for Alcor, it feeds on shadow magic. I’ve never tested it on a living being before – it would be nice to finally have a subject. Then I’d use this,” the next via was golden and unassuming. “It’s a cure-all of my own invention. It would heal you from that poison and even revive you from death if necessary. I would then proceed to test the next variant of my poisons for Alcor on you, and continue to do so until I’m satisfied.”

“So unless you want to be turned into a test subject,” Vega’s face turned into a sneer as he fell into a sarcastic bow, “give Altair back, _milord.”_

“I’ll be back.” Oberon vowed, somehow managing to loom despite being in the body of _Altair,_ who was probably as intimidating as a piece of crumpled paper on a normal day. “I’ll be back, and I’ll make an offer you _can’t_ refuse.” 

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Vega scoffed. “What’cha gonna do, offer us more money? That’s a _terrifying_ thought! Whatever shall I do? You said it yourself, man – we’re almost gods.”

“Even gods have things they fear,” Oberon’s tone was slow and slippery. “Your friend here, for instance? It’s _fascinating_ the way his mind works – the path to godhood is one that is purely mental now, not about sheer power. So many barriers of his own making – so many barriers of _your_ own making. It would be _so easy –”_

“Get out of his head.” Vega’s voice was a low snarl, at once angry and defensive. “Leave his head right this instant or so help me – I will rip you so thoroughly to shreds that Tatiana will be the _least_ of your concerns.” 

“If you insist,” Oberon swept into a low bow. All at once the strings were cut, and –

– Evan was Altair again. His breathing was heavy, he knew his eyes were wild, he was immediately trying to ground himself. 

“I’m gonna complain to the devs,” Vega – _Jared_ murmured, pulling Altair to his feet. “The fuck were they thinking with that shit? That’s not – not cool. You alright? That shit was fucked.” 

“I’m – I’m alright.” Speaking felt foreign in Evan’s mouth – he basked in it for a moment, embracing the feeling of breathe and form words and having a _physical form_ before continuing. “The god thing – do you think it’s true?” 

“With the system that’s been established here? Fuck, it might be. It would probably be something like a neat little epithet or something, like ‘the Persephone’ or whatever. It would be a major stat boost, maybe a neat unique ability developed for whoever completes the challenge or whatever, and then things return to normal. The world goes on. Either way, you’re close to something – something big. You triggered an event with _Oberon.”_

“I don’t know if I did,” Altair let out a shaky breath. “Whatever that was – that wasn’t normal. That wasn’t something that’ll pop up for – for _anyone_ else, I don’t think. Because that was too personal. I think something is about to happen. Something big. Something with – with Tatiana, and Oberon, and the current guild alliances. I think things are going to change. I think there’s about to be a civil war.”

***

Hopelessness clung to Connor’s ribs, filling in the space of his lungs with every breath. The music that rang in his ears wasn’t enough to drown out his thoughts, the thoughts that leaked between his feelings and his words. 

He hated the night. The stars were a painful reminder of everything he’d ever fucked up, and he was left on his own. When he was alone, he couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t ignore everything. Couldn’t ignore the fact that he was alone, and there was something clinging to the insides of his ribs. Something that wouldn’t let go, that threatened to suffocate him and wouldn’t let go. 

He wanted...he didn’t know what he wanted. To go home? 

But where was home? He thought home was the game. But the game was weird. People were weird there. Especially now that they knew him, who he was and what he had done – which was to be expected. He was always the problem. Home wasn’t his house, where people didn’t like him and he didn’t really like him either. 

Home wasn’t here, empty and hollow and personality-less. 

But if that wasn’t home, and this wasn’t home, where was it supposed to be? 

He didn’t know. 

Home is where the heart is...but he doesn’t really know where that is anymore, either. 

Maybe he doesn’t have one. Maybe he doesn’t have either. 

Maybe that would explain the hole in his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have officially finished the first draft of my musical!! this includes the script and lyrics, as i’ve found myself incapable of doing...literally anything else. so! at this point i’m doin’ some massive rewrites of what i’ve got while desperately searching for someone, anyone to help me with writing the score/who can actually write the score because i...i cannot do that.  
> so! if anyone is interested in joining in my bullshit, or knows someone who would be, feel free to email me at littleshrikethrush@gmail.com! none of what i’ve done is very good, but it’s fun and i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it better. and if you wanna help it doesn’t need to be music related! tbh i just want someone to ramble at about this project because i have,,,so many thoughts and feelings. just. just a *lot*.


End file.
